The Last Straw
by Solis
Summary: Draco ponders on the current state of his relationship, Harry acts rather clueless. HD slash.
1. The Last Straw

Ah pissed off - I am. My desk lamp just went off so I changed the bulb, which is fiddly and took me fifteen minutes, and now it still won't work. Therefore, ANNOYED!! So much, in fact, that I might write an angst Harry/Draco fic (gasp!).. (In the bloody DARK! I might add).  
  
Btw - All the characters and anything else you recognise belong to JK Rowling and co. Harry / Draco means slash (albeit it just implied). Also I have no beta and so I apologise for any errors I missed.  
  
The Straw  
  
Draco was contemplating the Chardonnay.  
  
He didn't usually take white wine - that was Harry's forte - but the three bottles of Merlot were gone and he had just finished the last Grenache Shiraz. It was white or nothing - and nothing was not an option.  
  
Having spent the last day and a half trying to get lost in oblivion, Draco Malfoy was in no mood for sobriety. He'd even stooped to the own brand Tesco vodka. And that, for him, indicated sheer desperation.  
  
Harry had gone. That much was certain. Now, Draco just had to figure out why.  
  
After a few more moments of deliberation, he poured himself a glass full and slouched back into his plush leather sofa.  
  
"If only they could see me now."  
  
His words echoed loudly in the empty apartment. He had not cried yet and, for that at least, he was thankful. It allowed him period of sheer denial, in which he could pretend that Harry had just popped out to get a Chinese or had left to visit Ron or Hermione. Scenarios in which he would return home after an hour or two.  
  
Draco drained the glass and slumped onto his side.  
  
It was his fault, he knew as much, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. In fact, it made it more painful. All those times he was insecure about matters, feeling nervous and ill-equipped. He had tried to make decisions based on propriety and the 'Malfoy' way. In retrospect, he was surprised that he had not thought himself a complete idiot immediately - the Malfoy way had never succeeded in giving him anything in the past but a reputation and a headache.  
  
But, none-the-less, he had chosen to act in manner which, in his opinion, spared his partner the unease of dealing with issues that could be best forgotten.  
  
His partner. God, it sounded so formal, which is the last thing it was, excepting select holiday dinners at the Weasley house.  
  
His Harry. Now, that sounded better.  
  
Not anymore, a depressed voice whispered inside his head, he's gone now.  
  
No. He would not dwell on that. He would review what he knew to figure out a way of solving the situation.  
  
Yes. He had chosen to reveal only those feelings which were appropriate and spared Harry the job of explaining that this relationship was 'only a bit of fun, Draco'.  
  
For that was what they had agreed. To have a no strings-no problems fling.  
  
In Draco's defence, he had reasoned that the animosity that had occurred between them was such that they could never form a lasting, loving relationship. Perhaps his need for Harry had clouded his judgement, but the decision could not be changed now.  
  
In any way, he had taken everything that, at the time, he thought he could get. All he thought he needed. He had never considered that his attraction could stem from anything deeper than admiration and lust.  
  
He had been wrong.  
  
For all his protesting, Harry had given him so much more than a fling. He had practically moved in with him. They had intimate moments together, far removed from the base instincts their relationship was supposed to be established on. They were in tune, sharing a look or a laugh about something only they found funny.  
  
They were in love - at least Draco was. Though he had never told Harry that.  
  
He had not told Harry a lot of things.  
  
Like how cute he was when he tried to persuade Draco to do things the muggle way. And when he would insist on watching some silent art house film, and promptly fall asleep ten minutes in, sprawled over Draco like a blanket, preventing him from changing the channel. Or when he would get that look in his eye and say something so obvious to excuse them both like 'Draco and I just forgot that we left the oven on'.  
  
No strings - what utter crap.  
  
Yeah. A whole web of unattached strings, weaving those non-existent problems together in a neat little pattern.  
  
When Draco had realised just how deeply entangled in said web he had become, he had immediately tried to disguise the apparent situation. The revelation forced him to work harder in remaining as cool and collected as he would normally act. In fact, the only times things became really close were when Harry would do something especially adorable or at that moment, when Draco had to restrain himself from screaming 'I love you'.  
  
He knew that as soon as Harry learnt of his breach of contract, he would be breaking the proverbial news to him gently.  
  
So he had kept quiet, gradually withdrawing into himself, in the hopes of keeping his ever increasing love for Harry a secret. He stopped looking at Harry tenderly. Stopped letting Harry have his way all the time. Stopped doing anything that could be misconstrued as remotely boyfriend-like.  
  
And he thought he had got away with it. He had truly believed that Harry had not noticed that anything was different at all. But, evidently, Harry was not as oblivious to feelings as people thought.  
  
That's why he left, Draco surmised, he must have known.  
  
The day before yesterday, Harry had arrived early on, which Draco had found strange because Harry had said he was working all day. He had knocked, which was again odd, because he had a key and, if open, he would generally just walk in the door without permission.  
  
He didn't take his coat off either, Draco remembered, and he made us stay standing in the hallway.  
  
Harry had told Draco in no uncertain terms that it was over.  
  
He had admitted to having a wonderful time while it lasted but "circumstances have changed and it is no longer in the best interests of my happiness to continue this relationship. I'm sorry Drake."  
  
What did that mean - Draco had been trying to decipher it.  
  
He had thought it meant that Harry knew about Draco's change of heart and was acting accordingly.  
  
Suddenly, he was not altogether sure about that.  
  
Perhaps, and this, he knew, was a long shot, but perhaps Harry felt the same as Draco. Perhaps he was as scared and as worried of rejection. Draco smirked to himself.  
  
Just keep grasping at that straw.  
  
Draco smiled.  
  
Maybe I will.  
  
The ring sounded far away on the end of the line.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey Harry," Draco breathed, "Just needed to hear your voice."  
  
"Did you? I - I can't change my mind Drake, I thought I made that much clear."  
  
"I know, sweetheart, but I realised I didn't. I love you, so much. Please come home."  
  
"."  
  
"Harry?"  
  
The dial tone was so completely deafening that Draco quickly replaced the receiver on its stand. As he shut his eyes to the silent tears he finally allowed to fall, he could have sworn he heard the sound of a solitary straw snapping. 


	2. Misinterpretation

Hi Guys, I just want to thank the people who reviewed – your comments were incredibly kind and helpful and I am really flattered that you took the time to read and reviewed. 

Justxme – Yes, Harry's behaving like a prat

JadedRoses – Thank you, glad you liked.

LyonessHeart – I have a fluffy end in mind – don't cry! I was only going to do the next part but you've inspired me to do this Harry POV – Hope you like it. His thoughts _after the call will come in the next part._

Chibikat1 – Wow! You gave me lots to think about! I used the phone because it's more impersonal than floo – where you can see each other's faces and I wanted it to be a more ambiguous for Draco, but I think your view is great and will include it. 

**After noticing some issues, I have revised this chapter. There is no real change to the plot, it was just a couple of points of contention that I needed to put right. You don't need to read it again unless you want to see a bit of new dialogue.**

Disclaimer – They're not mine….. (Yet! Muah ha ha)

Misinterpretation

_A sea of blood before him. _

_A land of bodies behind. _

_He walks in the shadow of the grove, determined._

_He waits, watching endlessly._

_A rustle to the left. The snap of a twig and the snide whisperings of bitter soldiers losing faith. _

_He has come….._

_…. "Precious boy. Here to get revenge for his dead parents."…._

_….Curses fly and miss….He is winning…No. This won't work…._

_"I owe you." He darts forward, replacing his wand in his robe. Surprising._

_He wraps his weatherworn hands around a scaly neck, squeezing. At first gently, then harder. Harder. Until….There is no pulse._

_He looks down for a victory memory of his tormentor._

_But he sees familiar blonde hair. Silk shirt. Expensive boots._

_Draco. He has killed him. He falls to the ground in anguish._

"Harry"

"…"

"Harry, wake up"

"…"

"Harry, it's just a nightmare."

"…"

"_Harry!"_

"Draco?"

"Harry, its Hermione."

"…..Oh"

"Why? Where's Draco?"

"At home. Probably."

"Then why aren't you there, too?"

"…"

"What's wrong Harry?"

"…"

"Is everything okay?"

"…"

"You missed the Reunion dinner yesterday. At Lavender's."

"…..Oh"

"It was nice, really. She made lasagna, your fav-"

"Was there something you wanted, 'Mione"

"…"

"…"

"Right! That is it."

Harry winced, flinging an arm over his eyes as the curtains in his bedroom were roughly drawn back. 

"I've had enough of this. The last two days you have been absolutely unbearable to be around."

He felt his bedcovers being pulled off and thrown aside.

"You're sullen. You're silent. You're off in your own little- Oh my god, Harry!"

Hermione had finally noticed the mounds of dirty clothes and empty wine bottles littering the luxury olive green carpet.

Harry had finally noticed that he had a luxury olive green carpet in his bedroom.

'Just shows how much I use this room' he thought, wryly.

"Look at this place. Draco's going to pitch a fit…"

Harry let out a bitter chuckle.

Her tirade on cleanliness prevented, Hermione moved to the side of the bed and crouched down, taking Harry's hand in her own.

"What's wrong with Draco, sweetie?"

"Nothing." he said defensively. She turned her eyes away, pensively, before giving him a calculating sidelong glance.

"Come now, tell Aunty 'Mione."

Harry gave a forced laugh. He didn't want to relive anything he'd done over the past two days. 

Forgetting was infinitely more preferable. And he was a pro at forgetting – he just needed a drop of liquid relief.

"Let's have a drink 'Mione. Chardonnay?" He asked, producing two mugs from beside the bed.

"It's ten in the morning, Harry"

"Don't you want to chat?" He edged, "Plus, it is Saturday"

"Okay…..One glass. Nothing more."

He poured a generous amount into her mug, which she raised her eyebrow at.

Silence reigned for a minute.

"Right……well – I…."

"I'm waiting, Harry." She nursed the cup.

"We….We made an agreement, okay?"

"Okay"

"We said we'd have a 'No Strings-No problems' fling"

"Oh…..And?" Harry completely missed her astonished look.

"And now it's a…..Well, it's not _that_ anymore, let's just say."

Hermione quickly regained her all-knowing demeanor.

"I can't say I'm surprised."

It was Harry's turn to look stunned.

"What? How do you always know everything before me?"

"It's a gift, really." She smiled.

"And thanks a lot. Nice to know you believe I can hold up my end of a deal. Me fall in love with _Malfoy of all people."_

He chuckled, nervously.

"Nothing wrong with that. Anyway, I didn't mean you….I meant Draco….I just knew he was in love with you. It was so obvious. The way he looked at you. Held you. Washed the pots by hand…."

Harry finally tuned in to what his friend was saying. He held up in protest.

"It's not Draco who broke the deal. It's me."

"What?" Hermione quickly closed her gaping mouth.

"I'm the one who broke the deal….I…I _care_ about him….More than I should."

"So you do love him." It was a statement, not a question.

Harry thought for a moment. He remembered fast paced nights out on the town. Lazy Sunday morning's hiding under the bedcovers. Little touches, soft smiles. He tried to think of every time he'd been truly happy throughout his entire life.

Almost every memory included Draco. And Harry knew.

"I….I do."

Hermione smiled again, softly.

"Then what is the problem, young Potter?"

"He….He doesn't love me back."

Burrowing back into the duvet, Harry curled into a fetal position and tried to comfort himself.

_'I was the right thing to do, I know. If I'd have stayed, it would have just gotten worse until I couldn't cope anymore. _

_And then I would have had to tell him, make him uncomfortable. Make him let me down, gently. Make him pity me._

_That would have been worse.'_

Hermione, on the other hand, was momentarily dumbstruck. She seemed to only just notice Harry's retreat into himself.

She disturbed him with a determined poke.

Harry responded with a wounded look.

"Are you kidding? I've seen you play the martyr before, Harry, but this is plain stupidity."

"Huh?" Now he was wounded _and_ confused.

"Draco loves you. Any fool can see that he absolutely adores you…."

Harry was resolutely shaking his head. He couldn't have his rock of sensibility putting wonderful lies in his head. 

_'It would shake the foundations of my tenuous grip on reality. She must be stopped.'_

"No, he doesn't." His voice was firm. A clear indication that the discussion was over.

Hermione completely ignored it.

"Yes, sweetheart, he does." She replied, just a firm, "He thinks the sun shines out of your well-formed behind."

"No, he can't- he…..We made a deal!" Harry grip was weakening.

"And? You broke the rules – why can't he?"

"Because….because, then…" A panicked look appeared on his face. His walls were almost down.

Hermione's faced filled with sudden clarity.

"Oh Harry…..What did you do?"

He averted his gaze. That day was the memory he never wanted to revisit.

"I….I was too scared…..To face the rejection."

"Oh, you didn't."

They're gazes locked and they stared at each other, unbidden tears forming in their eyes.

"I did" 

And Harry was broken.

Hermione launched forward, grasping Harry tightly.

"Oh you stupid, stupid boy."

Harry sobbed recklessly onto her shoulder.

_'What had he done?'_

"Well. There's only one thing left for you to do, love" she snuffled out.

"What?" he asked, eagerly and resolutely, clearly expecting a gospel answer.

"Tell him how you feel, Harry, and hope he forgives you. You've got nothing to lose, anymore."

Harry became silent. He knew he had made a terrible mistake, but facing Draco after his callous actions?

"Tell him, Harry."

"But I- I- What if he hates me?" _'I couldn't live with that.'_

"He won't Harry. But, you have to do something now before it's too late."

Panic gripped his heart, once again. 

"I- I can't. It's already too late. I-"

At that exact moment. The phone rang…

A/N: OMG I am so mean….. Even _I_ was screaming, "Wise up Harry you idiot" to the screen………I hope this clears some things up for most of you. I love Harry almost as much as Draco – which means I wouldn't hurt him unless he was coming out happy!!!

Don't click off…

Thanks again for your time in reviewing. I have now read all your entire bibliography on FF.net and I am so _flattered_ you couldn't _believe – "__Actual talented authors….. Reading __my story." It's almost unreal. You have made my day a million times over!!! _

I love you guys!!!!!!!!!!

_When will I post the next part……?_

(I actually have basically written the third, ha ha ha ... (Evil laugh!!))

Please, please, please, mail me if you like this or have comments, because I _really have only one person who's like my stories and she speaks only reasonable English, but understands the world of Harry Potter, so I would definitely appreciate any comments. - (Read my reviews….. I take everything to heart!!!)_


	3. No More Tears

Hello everyone, I cannot _believe_ number of reviews I've had on this scribbling. A general thank you to all who have taken the time to read this story, even if they haven't reviewed, (I know I've done it before!) 

JadedRoses – Thanks again. I'm pro-Draco, so it's generally Harry who acts the fool for me.

Justxme - Thanks! Here's the next part, hope you like it.

Fiery Phoenix – Thank you!

Esrinthly – Muah ha ha! My pleasure, thank you for reading it!

Lyonessheart – Thank you, I know Harry's a good guy at heart, he's just clueless!

Dark-Fairy-Magick – Thank you, I love this pairing – always has a spark!

Chi7890 – Don't cry – They belong together, really, so I can't possibly keep them apart, can I?

A/N Not my characters, (unfortunately!)

**I have revised this chapter in the same manner that I edited the previous one. Again, re-read if you are interested, but it will not really affect the plot.**

No More Tears

Draco had no more tears left.

He had been crying for the last half hour and now, it seemed, his eyes had gone on strike, while cursed sobriety was returning with full force.

He felt low and stupid. Actually, beyond stupid. 

Whatever chance he might have had at reconciliation was gone, courtesy of a moment of pure insanity and a few bottles of expensive red. And cheap vodka. And the bottle of Jack Daniels that he'd got for his birthday.

But it was, of course, completely irrelevant now.

_I should have never gone for the Chardonnay. He though miserably._

The point was he had done it and had made an error in judgment.

As soon as the thought entered his head, he heard his father's voice appear.

_A Malfoy does not _make mistakes. A Malfoy is _never_ wrong.__

Draco couldn't help the snort that escaped him. 

"Didn't get you very far, did it though?" He said bitterly, "Doesn't hold up very well in court either, does it?"

He quickly changed the direction of his thoughts – those were issues to set aside for another day. One a _long_ way away. Of course, the turn about lead directly back to _him_.

Issuing a painful sigh, he tried very hard to think of absolutely nothing….

_Ah, Harry. I love you more than anything in the world. _

….Which, of course, was impossible.

His head ached from the alcohol and his limbs were leaden.

He sniggered miserably at how pitiful he must look – red eyed and puffy, with yesterday's clothes hanging off him in a rumpled mess and various empty alcohol bottles strewn carelessly across his surrounding area.

_'Well, bollocks to this,'  he decided, '_I'm going to get ready and go out somewhere.__

_I am a Malfoy, after all- No,'  he caught himself,__ 'I'm Draco_. This will not beat me. To the bathroom, for a cold shower.'__

He pried himself from the smooth couch and rose, assuming a proud _Draco_ stance…and quickly sat back down when the nausea and dizziness hit him.

_Maybe a coffee and a couple of aspirin first…_

Half an hour later, Draco was ready to go.

Admittedly, he still had dark circles around his eyes and his already pale complexion was a shade or two lighter than normal. And, perhaps, his clothes did _hang off him slightly, after his two-day liquid diet, but that was beside the point._

He was going out for himself. And later, if the chance arose, he might be _going_ elsewhere.

Smirking at that thought, Draco checked for his wallet, held his chin high and swaggered out of his silent apartment….

After purchasing some more coffee and a sandwich from a nearby Starbucks, – a habit he had picked up from Harry - Draco headed towards the local park, deciding to be nothing but cheerful.

_'A long walk should clear my head. I need to let go of this. It's only rejection – I should be surprised it doesn't happened more often'_

He stopped, laughing at himself. 

_'Oh Harry, look what you've turned me into. Anymore of this and I'll be too ashamed to even look at myself in a mirror. No, this newfound tendency towards self-flagellation has got to go._

After six hours of concentrated reflection and communion with nature, he felt better about himself, but could take no more. 

A quick glance at the time confirmed that the local nightlife was just beginning. It was with a sigh of relief that he ended up being drawn into a familiar nightspot. Unsurprisingly, it was the lure of overpriced alcohol that was the key to the successful seduction of Draco.

_'Ah,' _ he said to himself, breathing in the heady aroma of stale beer and cheap tobacco and heading for the bar, '_feels like home.'_

"The usual Draco? Sex on the Beach and a neat JD?"

_'And now the obvious reason why I should never have come to The Hollow, our usual haunt.'_

"Oh, maybe later, Jake." He laughed, as usual, "Just the neat bourbon, for now."

The barman started, before giving a laugh and a sympathetic look and moving away to pour his drink.

Draco placed his head in his hands. _Did everyone know?_

_'And did they have to think that he'd been the one dumped? It might be true, but really'…_

He thought briefly about relocating to another bar. One _without_ pity as a side order.

A hand came down on his shoulder, making him jump.

"That's on me", the stranger said, as Jake placed the filled glass before the blonde.

Draco turned on the stool, to observe the newcomer.

_'Not bad,'  he thought, idly,_ 'not bad at all…. Still got it!'__

He eyed the man amusedly, until he introduced himself.

"Richard Holmes, at your service." He paid the hovering barman and, turning, offered his hand.

"Draco Malfoy" The hand was firmly shaken and then held slightly longer than necessary.

"My pleasure, Mr. Malfoy. I was wondering if you would care for a dance or two."

Draco hesitated, used to replying that he had a boyfriend who he was waiting for. He realised that he was now free to do what he liked. 

_'Unfortunately. But there's no use in dwelling. What's done is done.'_

"Why yes, Mr Holmes, I'd like to dance." Decisively, he drained his drink and took the man's hand in his own, allowing himself to be led to the floor.

"Wonderful. Oh and call me Richard."

Draco managed to sway almost convincingly before the other man.

_'Though lacking most of my usual finesse.' He smirked,__ 'Which still leaves me a cut above the rest.'_

Richard seemed to think this glance was directed towards him and gave a 'seductive' smirk in reply. 

Draco had to hold back laughter.

He noticed a prickling sensation down his back, as if someone were watching him.

_'If only.' He glanced briefly around, though, just to be sure. He couldn't see anyone he knew._

_'Stupid Draco. Stupid Wishing.'_

After a few fast paced numbers, the DJ decided to slow the pace a little.

Draco had to take a minute to adjust, when his partner placed his hands on his hips and pulled him closer.

_His partner. 'Oh god.'_

It hit him like a lightning bolt. _'What was he doing here?'_

The strange touch on his pelvis. The foreign breathing he could hear by his left ear. The strained, lust-driven aura emanating from the man holding him.

It took all of his composure not to run. His flight or fight reflex was already kicking in.

"I'm just off to get another drink." Draco managed, mentally thanking his childhood conditioning, "Can I get you anything?"

"Sex on the Beach, thanks"

Draco gasped, audibly. 

"Something wrong?" The other man enquired.

"Um, no. No. Just, um, felt an old injury. You know? Later." 

Draco almost sprinted to the bar, one thought ringing clearly in his mind.

_'I may have been rather swift in putting myself back out there.'_

No. He was determined to make this work. He knew that if he didn't get back up now, he would be down and out forever.

Reaching the bar, he ordered the 'Usual', making Jake smile.

"Ah," he cried, "Where's that boy of yours? Does he still like extra Cranberry? Know about that _other_ guy?"

Draco was rendered momentarily silent by the immediate tears that appeared in his eyes. He was still, he realised, loathed to admit, and accept, Harry's departure from his life. 

And there was no escaping that fact, he knew. But he was going to try anyway.

"Somewhere else, Yes and Maybe." he responded, forcing a smile, "He _might_ be in on it, did you think of that?"

Jake sighed, "Oh don't tease me, Draco. If only it were I with you two."

"Why?" Draco's attention was caught.

"Come on, babe, you two are like fire and gasoline! We mere mortals get _barely hot compared to you two, having witnessed your _obvious_ heat-making ability. God, you two are practically legends around town – Everyone wants a piece of you, but all you both want is each other. Especially Harry. If it weren't for his dangerously pointed glares when anyone so much as glanced at you, we'd have been inviting you _into our lair_ months ago. "_

"Huh?" 

"I know sweetie. He's usually able to protect you from all of that stuff. Doesn't like people sniffing around _his_ territory, if you know what I mean? Lucky he's not here now. I _love_ to see what he'd do to lover boy over there."

Floored, Draco tried to assimilate this new _information_ with the _sweet Harry_ he'd cultivated over their months together. 

_Harry protected_ him??_ _From unwanted advances?? With predatory and possessive glares??____

"Well, he's not here. And, if what you say is true, then I'll never know what he would do to _lover boy, because he, obviously, would never tell me."_

"Hey," Richard approached, "Why don't we get out of here, instead?"

Draco gulped. Jake chuckled. Draco heard and reformed his charade.

_I will not be patronised by you_ of all people.__

"Yes. What a good idea." He said, pointedly, looking at the barman. Richard beamed.

As he left, arm in arm with the wrong person, he briefly thought he might've made another mistake.

_Not that it matters anymore._

A/N. "You have made one, Draco, you have. Get back inside, this instance!" ….

I had a piece written where it was all happy and fluffy straight away but, to be honest, I couldn't see our Draco going for that. Hope you all like and, if not, give some good pointers. Thanks again, till next time.

By the way, I try to update every Monday and Thursday, but I don't have net access really on weekends. I apologise if I'm late for these days, but I do get bouts of 'writersblockus', an often incurable disease of the desperate.


	4. Repercussions

Hi, this is the fourth part of The Last Straw – hope you all enjoy.

I will try to post on Saturday as well. Thanks to everyone who reviewed.

Lyonessheart – You've got to get complex to make it entertaining! Harry definitely deserves it, anyway. As for a happy ending – I think I can manage that!!

JadedRoses – I hate him too! He's based on an _acquaintance_ of mine, so that's probably why.

Dea puella – They are meant to be I'll agree – and fluff always wins in the end!!

Justxme – Draco called Harry. Draco's in denial. Here's the update.

Fiery Pheonix – Why do we act the way we do? Who knows? What will Harry say when he sees them? Read on and find out.

A/N Still not mine (mmmm…Draco!)

**I have revised this chapter somewhat since it was first posted.**

Repercussions

_"Hello?"_

_"Hey Harry, just needed to hear your voice."_

_"Did you? I – I can't change my mind Drake, I thought I made that much clear."_

_"I know, sweetheart, but I realised I didn't… I love you, so much. Please come home."_

The words play in a constant loop.

Like a broken record, stuck forever on a single, defining track.

His mind has ceased to function.

His body is frozen in time.

And there, on the tip of his tongue, they remain - The words he should have spoken.

'_I love you'_

"Harry"

_'I love you, too. Draco'_

"Harry!"

He blinks. Again.

Looks down at his right hand, still gripping the receiver even though it is back on the hook. And back toward Hermione.

"Who was it?"

"…Draco."

"…And what did he say?"

Harry could still here it repeating in his head. He tried to remember exactly what had occurred…

Harry's heart rate increased at the sound of Draco's voice, only to rise further with his words.

_"Hey Harry, just needed to hear your voice."_

'Not as much as I needed to hear yours.'

_"Did you? I – I can't change my mind Drake, I thought I made that much clear."_

'But I can't let him know the truth – I've already hurt him enough.'

_"I know, sweetheart, but I realised I didn't… I love you, so much. Please come home."_

'It's too late. I can't risk- What!?! _What_ _did he just say??_ He- I- Oh my…'

…Harry had been unable to comprehend Draco's words.

Even now, his mind was jammed with thousands of different emotions, all battling for supremacy. 

But, cutting across his internal civil war, becoming louder and clearer with every second, was one precise thought.

_'He loves me'_

_'He loves me'_

A hand came down on his shoulder, soothing.

"Sweetie, what did he say?"

"He loves me." Harry whispered, forgetting everything but the simple joy those words brought him.

"Pardon?"

"He loves me!" He grabbed her shoulders, "He loves me, Hermione. _He_ loves _me_!"

The two friends beamed at each other, before sharing a long hug.

"I hate to say it, Harry, but _I told you so_!" Harry chuckled.

"He loves me. Wow."

"Yes, Harry, he loves you."

"And he _phoned_ me 'Mione. He's never made the effort to phone before."

"I know sweetie. It's because he loves you."

"Yes, he does."

Harry's face started to droop as reality caught up with him.

"He loves me and I split up with him for no good reason and then slam the phone down on him. I am such a selfish bastard."

"Harry!"

"Well, I've been whining about hurting him and, at the first chance I get to make it up to him, I go and hurt him all over again. I mean, I didn't even respond to his declaration. I just hung up. Great way to show him how much I care." 

"What do you mean you just _hung up_?" Hermione was, once again, confused. She was quite unused to and upset about all this uncertainty. She turned back to Harry. "Well?"

Harry paused, swallowing.

"After he told me he loved me, I froze. I don't know what came over me but I hung up the phone. It was like I needed to get rid of it, subconsciously. Like I knew – that it was too good to be true….Or something. I don't really know anymore."

He turned a sad, beseeching face towards Hermione, who held his gaze but remained silent.

"Well?" He asked

"Well, what?"

"What should I do?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Harry James Potter. You are not an imbecile, so do not act like one."

Harry pondered a few moments.

"So I should…."

She looked ready to explode, which she did.

"Clearly, you should get yourself over to his flat. Right now." He didn't move. 

"Go!" She visibly shooed him away 

He looked himself over.

"Not before I've taken a shower and shaved."

"What!?! Just wash quickly and throw some clothes on. Draco will be more than pleased to see you, especially if you say 'I'm sorry for being a prat. I'm completely in love with you, too!'"

"Draco will _not_ be pleased if I turn up looking and smelling like I do now."

"He loves you, Harry, remember. He-"

"Hermione, have you ever _met_ Draco? Are we talking about the same person? Because the Draco that _I_ know would not even admit me into his home unless I was neat and clean. Seriously, he's quite unyielding about things like that. And _he's_ almost unsoilable – you rarely ever see him rumpled or tousled, even."

'_Except on _specific_ occasions!'_ Harry chuckled to himself, smiling fondly.

"That may be true Harry, but you are wasting precious time." His smile drooped.

"If you're going to get ready properly, knowing you, that's another half hour gone. Will you apparate?"

"Probably not. I can't apparate to the street outside, obviously, and I'd rather not appear uninvited into his home. I think I'll take the tube and then I can knock politely."

"Okay, well that's another twenty or thirty minutes. You're going to leave him hanging on for another hour? That's hardly going to garner any feelings of forgiveness he might've had."

"But if I go like this, he might just decide I'm not his type and kick me to the curb anyway."

"I severely doubt that, Harry. Seriously, though, a moment ago you were suicidal over this, and now you're worried about him not liking your tie? Lasting relationships are not built on foundations as wobbly as that, assuming that's what you want."

"It is what I want. You're right, of course, but- well, he's _really_ particular about appearance."

"Fine, I give in. Since you will insist on being anally retentive when it comes to Draco," she smiled and patted him on the shoulder, "you do what you think is best."

"Thanks 'Mione!" He ran to the bathroom, completely missing the insult.

She began to tidy up the wrecked room.

"I don't know why I bother. Drama-queens, the lot of them…."

…Twenty minutes later, a new personal best, Harry stepped out of his room fully dressed, and finished his hair in the living room mirror.

"Well?" He gestured at himself to Hermione.

"Stunning, as always, dearest." 

He picked up his coat and keys and looked to the door.

"Shall we?"

"You have your travel card?"

"Yep."

"Get him some flowers, as well."

"Okay."

She kissed his cheek.

"Break a leg, Harry."

"I just might, knowing Draco."

… There were no delays on the underground, so, even with a pit stop at the florist near the station, Harry made it to Draco's North-London flat in twenty minutes. He had jogged from the nearest tube station, which, combined with his nerves, made him slightly out of breath by the time he reached the door. Thankfully, the roses were unharmed.

He knocked, once. Twice.

No answer.

He knocked again.

Nothing.

"Draco? Are you there?"

What if he was hurt or unable to get to the door?

"Draco? Are you okay?"

He still had his key. 

_'And Draco may be unable to cry out for help'_

He turned the lock and stepped inside.

The devastation was immediately apparent - Items lay all over the floor, clothes in piles, drawers emptied. 

Harry thought his first suspicions had been correct. The house looked ransacked.

_'Draco!'_ He dashed through the flat, checked everywhere for his possibly injured or unconscious boyfriend.

_'Oh god, I hope he's alright.'_ He thought, pausing for breath.

It was then that he noticed the empty bottles, scatter randomly amongst the debris. The empty crystal goblets littering the antique coffee table. And it hit Harry.

_'Draco's been drinking. Heavily. He's not even tidied anything up.'_

_'He's been like me – trying to get lost.'_

He was absolutely mortified and ashamed. His selfishness had driven his lover to this. 

He needed to find Draco. Now.

Turning on his heel, Harry left the apartment, quickly. He ran out into the street and stopped, looking around.

_'If I was Draco, where would I go?'_

Harry knew that, thanks to apparition, Draco could be anywhere in the country, but experience told him that he was nearby.

He decided to scour around the town, until he found him. He owed Draco that much, at least.

…Harry was running out of ideas fast. He had spent the last six hours searching around the area. He'd been to all of their favourite haunts – cafes, shops and he'd even managed to check the audience of the current showing of the last film they had seen together at the local cinema. He'd only visited part of the park, knowing that Draco liked to go there sometimes, but it was so big that there was no way he'd find him if he'd wandered into the woodland area.

_'I must look like a complete lunatic, running around like a headless chicken, carrying a bunch of half decimated flora.'_

The roses were actually in pretty good shape, considering the trek they'd survived.

_'Well, they won't need to last much longer – there's nowhere else to go. Except. I haven't checked the local bars. He might decide to stay out for a drink, tonight.'_

So, Harry resolved to have a solo bar-crawl, the formation of strategy improving his mood quite considerably….

…_ 'Well,'_ he thought,_ 'That was a complete waste of time.'_

Twelve bars and four drinks later, another personal best, Harry was seriously low on options. Ahead of him lay his last hope – The Hollow - Draco and his primary drinking establishment. Harry had thought that Draco would avoid this particular bar as he had done, mostly because of the memories it held for them both- He knew he would not be able to forget Draco here.

_'But I don't want to forget him, so that's okay. Perhaps drink myself to depression thinking about him and then stumble back to his flat and fall asleep outside his door. Then, tomorrow, I'll beg for forgiveness and a hangover potion. Perhaps not the wisest choice.'_

By now, he had reached the door of the bar.

He looked heavenward for a moment, sending silent prayers for Draco to be there.

As he stepped inside, one look at the bar told him his wish had been granted.

_'Beautiful_.' The only thought Harry could manage. 

The love of his life was sitting only a few metres away, blonde hair shimmering in the neon lights emanating from the DJ box, laughing at something Jake, the barman, had said. Harry had never seen a more welcome sight.

Draco laid his head onto the bar, seemingly seeking to compose himself. 

_'See. It's obvious he's hurting too. Go and make him better.'_

Harry calmed his nerves and started to make his way over.

But someone beat him to it.

He saw the newcomer – a tall, brunette in an expensive suit – lean over Draco and pay for his drink. 

_'They must know each other.'_ Harry reasoned, _'From work or something.'_

When he looked again, however, he saw the two were holding hands, the other man seemingly caressing Draco's skin.

Harry's heart dropped to his stomach.

_'I did this.'_ He thought to himself. _'I pushed him away and now I've lost him for good.'_

Still, his first instinct was to rush over and stand between them, perhaps deliver a swift kick to the man's- _Ah, yes, well I doubt Draco would appreciate that course of action._

He watched Draco drain his drink and be led onto the heaving dance floor. For some reason – _sadomasochistic tendencies, _thought Harry -, He slid into the nearest seat he could find, conveniently hidden somewhat in shadow, and watched as his heart crumbled.

The fast pace of the beat meant, thankfully, that the two men danced a bit apart. Harry's world decreased until all it consisted of was himself and the writhing blonde on the dance floor. Draco's dancing had always had this effect on him. Even now, in his current situation, he could feel desire pooling in the pit of his stomach. 

Halfway through the song, Draco seemed to come alive. It was such a sight that Harry almost had to look away to prevent himself from jumping onto the dance floor.

The song changed. A slower, more sensual beat floated through the bar. The new man placed his hands on Draco's hips, guiding them closer until they were pressed together, moving as one. 

Anger rose in Harry, even though he knew it was no longer his place. He still couldn't bear the thought of anyone but him touching _his _Draco in that manner. Even though it was only seconds of contact, the ire forming his already lust-addled brain was almost enough to break Harry's resolve. 

When, at long last it seemed, Draco stepped away from the man towards the bar, Harry took that moment to breathe and calm down. But the feelings were still there. He still wanted to rip that intruder limb from limb. He realised he was glared pointedly at a complete stranger contemplating how to painfully torture him. He relaxed slightly, but refused to shift his look.

The man followed Draco and touched his shoulder – an entirely unnecessary act, in Harry's opinion -, obviously entreating him to accompany the man to another location. After a brief chat with Jake, Draco stood, linked the man's arm in his own and proceeded towards the exit.

It was all too much to take in.

Harry saw red.

A/N ohhh What will happen! Will Harry finally get a backbone!?! Ah the anticipation…..


	5. The Cavalry

Hey Everyone. There is absolutely no excuse for my absence. I have been trying for sometime to write this chapter – all in all it has taken months. Still I like it, but I have a strange sense of humour. I've tried to keep as canon as you can go when you're writing H/D, so I hope it satisfies you all. Thank you everyone who commented – when I see your reviews in my inbox, it brightens my day, you lovely, lovely people. This is unbeta-ed, as yet but I have proof read it quite thoroughly. Please review and I'll finish it shortly.

Disclaimer – I want a Harry and I want a Draco but, despite fruitless heists and ingenious plots, they aren't mine….yet…muahhahahaha…

* * *

Chapter 5 – The Cavalry

Last time we saw Draco…

"Hey," Richard approached, "Why don't we get out of here, instead?"

Draco gulped. Jake chuckled. Draco heard and reformed his charade.

_I will not be__ patronised by _you_ of all people._

"Yes. What a good idea." He said, pointedly, looking at the barman. Richard beamed.

As he left, arm in arm with the wrong person, he briefly thought he might've made another mistake.

_Not that it matters anymore…_

_No!_ Draco's inner voice reprimanded him, once again, with a voice resembling his imprisoned father, _No more of this defeatist attitude! You are – or rather you _used _to be – a _Malfoy_! So, for god's sake, act like one!_

The voice became more pronounced with the repetition of his fathers' favourite phrase.

_A Malfoy does _not _make mistakes._

If Draco had not known better, he could've sworn his father was standing next to him, speaking the lines himself. He shuddered, hoping that would never come to pass again.

_But, thinking about it,_ Draco reasoned,_ perhaps the man was close to the right idea._

Yes. He could admit that this whole fiasco had occurred because of his love for Harry. His love.

His feeling.

His weakness.

But, his mistake?

_Never, _he concluded_. Everything happened exactly as it should have. I offered myself to Harry and he rejected me. It's _his_ fault._

Of course, Draco knew he should have been aware of the possibility of this happening – it had happened before.

_But, you did behave like a spoilt brat the first time you met him._ His other inner voice piped up.

_No, it wasn't me._ Draco defended; _I was a young boy, slightly nervous about leaving home for the first time. I was desperate to make friends – I was trying to impress him. It was _his_ fault for not taking time to even find out who I was, before judging me._

He had made up his mind.

_This is all Harry- no,_ Potter's_ – fault. Goody-two shoes thinks I'm alright for a fling, but _not good enough_ for a real relationship. Well, fine. I'll show him. I can do better. I _was_ a Malfoy, after all._

"Are you okay?" Draco jumped at the low voice – he had almost forgotten the other man was there.

"Yes," he replied, shaking his head to clear it, "I'm fine."

Richard studied him for a moment; Draco thought he saw a glimpse of concern amid the warmth of the gaze, but decided he was probably mistaken. The moment of silence allowed Draco to return the scrutiny – of course, in the subtle, inconspicuous way he was taught to. He had briefly regarded Richard back in the Hollow, but had thought of him more as a way to amuse and distract himself, rather than in any serious way. Draco was delighted to find that the other man seemed to have a lot of qualities that he himself admired.

Richard definitely fell into the classic tall, dark and handsome category.

_Though,_ thought Draco,_ that's not anything _new_ to me after the last few months._

He quickly stopped _that_ train of thought, giving Richard another sly once over while the other man was looking away.

At a second glance it became apparent that, apart from the basic appeal, Richard was most obviously different from Ha…Pot…_him_. Styled, neat hair was the first thing that really caught the eye and, also, a clear abundance of taste in clothing, shown by tailored Armani trousers and a silk shirt. Two differences - Draco appreciated this more than he thought he would. And to say he wasn't intrigued would be a lie. Unsure, yes – he felt the whole thing was permeated with a lingering sense of wrongness.

In fact, Draco could almost hear the angel on his shoulder telling him that he was being rash and silly by entertaining the possibility of being with someone while still in love with Ha…someone else.

But then again, Draco never was famous for listening to his conscience.

"So. Where do you want to go?" Richard enquired, "We could go back to my place – I have a bottle of Chardonnay in the fridge."

"Chardonnay!" Harry's favourite. Draco mentally kicked himself for being unsettled.

"Yes. It's a '96 Louis Jadot, of course." Richard leaned in, ever so slightly; his breath skimming the surface of Draco's pale cheek, as he whispered, "Very sweet and silky."

The blonde couldn't stop the blissful sigh that escaped him. He was _definitely_ impressed with Richard. But the Chardonnay _was_ rather a step in the wrong direction.

"Actually, I'm more of a red wine connoisseur."

With a look of respect, the other man replied.

"As am I. Well then, you'll be even more pleased to note that I have a '94 Pinot Noir in the wine cellar."

"Excellent."

"From the Romanee Conti – Dark, rich and intense. Some might even say 'penatrating'."

"Penetrating?" Draco paused a moment, well aware that the wrong words could convey the wrong message entirely. _What to say? I'm not bound to…. Well should I flirt back?_

His subconscious answered quickly.

_'Trust your instinct, Draco.'_

Try as he might, Draco could not convince himself to fully commit himself to bedding the other man. Though he was attractive and kind….and cultured….Draco was adamant. He needed more evidence before he could accept this man as a partner.

"Draco? Do you want me to get a cab to my place?" Richard enquired,

"No……No, let's go to a club. I'm in the mood for a bit of music." Draco replied.

His instinct had told him to wait for a sign. He was biding his time…

* * *

Harry was livid.

Gripping the weathered bouquet in his hand, he stood and strode purposefully after the retreating couple.

_'How _dare_ he.' _Harry seethed inwardly.

Going out for a drink and some company was one thing but _leaving_ with a complete _stranger_ just hours after….

'_Go on,'_ the voice inside him prompted,_ 'finish what you were saying. Just hours after… _you_ let him believe you didn't care about him. And, let's not forget, just _days_ after you _told_ him that you didn't care about him. Oh yes, the cheek. How _dare_ he?'_

Harry slowed his pace, his aggression diminishing.

'_How dare _he"….

"How dare _he_?"….

"How dare _I_?"….

Suddenly exhausted, Harry slumped into the nearest bar stool and laid his head upon the counter.

"Why do I always let things like this happen? I'm too old to be acting like this. Why couldn't I just be honest with him? If I care as much as I say I do, why don't I just say what I feel and chance the risk that I'll get hurt?"

A familiar rough voice cut through Harry's reflective monologue.

"Well, if I could answer those questions, Har, then I'd probably be all cosy in a nice little marital cottage somewhere, making passionate love to Hermione."

Harry looked up, momentarily surprised.

"Ron?" He gasped.

The redhead looked amused at Harry's outburst.

"The one and only. Heard you'd had a bit of a spat with ferr- sorry- _Malfoy_, so I thought I'd pop round to cheer you up a bit."

"How'd you find me?"

Ron rolled his eyes at his best friend.

"Simple locator spell, of course." He replied, ignoring Harry's less that subtle gesturing for him to keep his voice down, "Oh, the muggles don't mind. But, Harry, honestly - A year of self-imposed "incantation abstinence" and we're slacking on the basics."

Harry laughed. "A year of pining like a red haired puppy over a certain friend of ours and you're channelling her divine, omnipotent yet well read spirit."

Ron looked suitable scandalised as the idea, before the simple thought of Hermione had him grinning widely once again.

"Well, you got me – I might possibly be quoting her. But I still don't get why you and…him…don't-" Ron mimicked a vague wand movement.

"You _know_ why we have "incantation abstinence". We had this discussion last year. Voldemort … he's…Magic is…It's _different_ for me now, Ron. Tainted, even. Besides, I live in a muggle area. Even if I wanted to start fully using magic again, I'd have to keep it to a minimum. Can you imagine how Mrs. Forster from next door would react to suspicious flashes and bangs coming from my living room?"

"From past experience, I'd say you'd have a couple of those "Please-men" around for a chat."

"Policemen." Harry corrected absently, "And more like bloody MI5! Peering round her doorway at me, every time I go anywhere. Sneaking peeks over the shrubbery when she thinks I'm not looking. I reckon she's already got her suspicions about me. You should see the fortress she's put 'round her carnations. I mean, do I _look_ like the kind of man who goes around vandalising old women's flower beds."

"Okay, okay. Point made." Ron relented, as he usually did, although he made a conscious effort to badger Harry on the issue every time they met, just to keep the idea around.

Harry was surprised by the swiftness with which Ron acquiesced. He immediately recognised the gesture as Ron's way of being sympathetic to his current dilemma.

"Hey _Weasel._ Not going all soft on me are you?" the brunette sneered, eerily reminiscent of Draco's tone.

"Oh bugger, looks like I'm not the only one who can channel spirits. That was dead on, mate!" Ron was chuckling in disbelief.

"Well, I've had a lot of time to get the hang of it." Harry smiled, somewhat sadly.

_Get it together, Potter_, berated the voice in his head which, Harry noted, sounded suspiciously like Draco's "get on with it" voice.

"Anyway. Things still not going well with 'Mione, then." He asked, trying to lift the mood.

"Oh, don't get me started, Harry. I'm just so useless when it comes to her. I turn into the biggest idiot on the planet; tongue tied in double knots and both feet planted firmly in mouth. Forget suave and charismatic – I'd settle for "able to string a sentence together"."

"You're not that bad." Harry managed to get out, between the fits of laughter he was experiencing.

"Thanks, Harry." Ron said, as he joined in the laughter, "It's good to know I can always count on you to back me up at times like these."

"See, Ron, _sarcasm_. Obviously, you're on the road to being witty and intelligent."

"Well, some hope at last!" Ron wiped the corners of his eyes and gave a final chuckle. "So, then…what happened with Draco?"

Harry shrugged, his sudden attempt at nonchalance belying his true upset.

"I didn't tell him something important when I had the chance. And now it's too late."

Ron's eyes filled with such empathy that Harry was struck once again with the knowledge that, for all his lack of tact, beneath the surface of his best friend, there was a truly caring person. The red head gave a slight smile.

"It's never too late, Harry, and that's coming from someone who's been there. How many thousands of things have I not told Hermione? Things that should have been said a long, long time ago. And so I say this to you, mate, because I believe it. I _need_ to believe it because if it _is_ too late and I _have_ missed the port key, as it were, then I'm buggered. That's it for me. _She's_ it."

"I think," Harry began, after a moment of silence, "that that was the longest speech I have ever heard you give about something that isn't Quidditch."

Both men chuckled, before smiling silently at each other, enjoying the new bond forged within their friendship, whilst contemplating their individual situations. Finally Harry, obviously winning an internal battle, began to speak.

"I realised something, a while ago. I realised…I love him."

"Not a shock, mate, carry on." Ron supplied, "Of course, it would be if it were me – bloody nightmare," Harry raised his eyebrows at this. "Umm, sorry… please carry on."

"I thought that, if I suppressed it or forgot it was there, it might go away or, at least, become less intense. Later on, I realised it wasn't going anywhere; so I tried to hide it, thinking I could live with it – live with _him_ – the way things were. I thought that anything with him was better than a life without him, even though I knew he didn't feel he same way about me. Last week, it- it just got too much."

The usually carefree red head now looked thoughtful.

"What happened?"

The green-eyed man's face warmed for a minute, as it so often did when he was thinking about Draco.

"He… I had a mild case of the flu, so I cancelled our date at the Garrick Theatre because I didn't feel good and I didn't want him to catch anything."

The other man nodded in recognition. "Yeah, I remember 'Mione mentioning it. Apparently, you looked like death."

"She's always so complementary." Harry said, rolling his eyes, "Anyway, I told him it would be best if he took someone else; still make a night of it. Fifteen minutes after I hung up, Drake turns up in my apartment, holding a warm flask of soup, some paracetamol and my favourite movie on DVD. And, you know, he looked after me all night. He's just so…."

"Annoying? Girly? Acerbic?" Ron offered.

Harry though for a moment and smiled. "He's everything I ever wanted."

"Oh, mate." Ron grimaced, patting his shoulder in a consoling manner, "you really _do_ have a problem. I'd be very depressed if I felt that way about Malfoy."

"I thank Merlin everyday that you don't." Harry deadpanned.

"I'm sorry," Ron apologised, "I'm "deflecting with humour". 'Mione goes on about it constantly. Seriously, though, I'm not seeing where you're problem is."

Ron looked confused, whilst Harry withdrew into himself slightly, his voice receding until the red head had to strain to hear over the background drone of the pub.

"I knew that he didn't requite my feelings. Despite his every action screaming to the contrary, I was convinced that Draco Malfoy thought of me only as a convenience. A quick fix to span the interim until he found a more suitable partner. And I realised that it wasn't enough for me anymore. Though the need to have him in my life was stronger than ever, I just knew that I would live to regret a lifetime of one-sided affection. Or even worse – I doubted I'd survive the day he found that someone that he _could_ fall in love with."

"Oh." Ron appeared to be processing the information, "So, what happened?"

He was peering intently at the brunette, waiting for the obvious conclusion of the tale to be told.

"So, I left him." Ron looked taken aback, "I ended the arrangement and now, just as I had almost convinced myself that I hadn't just made the biggest mistake of my life in leaving Drake, he rings me. Tells me that he loves me and he wants me to come home. So all this time, all these-" Harry's voice broke slightly, "-weeks, he's been feeling exactly the same as I have. And I've said nothing. And now I've hurt him enough to make him believe I don't care at all."

"Well…..bugger." Ron looked Harry over, noticing he was expecting a reply, "Give me a minute on this one, alright? I'm not exactly the best person to be advising you here."

Harry nodded content to daydream for a moment.

"Okay," Ron said, drawing Harry's focus once again. "I think you need to talk to him about this. Do it as soon as possible – perhaps even tonight. I know this looks exactly like the "pot calling the cauldron black" and you're right, but, if I had this opportunity with 'Mione, I would take it."

Harry had known what Ron's advice would be, but still he felt compelled to fill in the rest of the story.

"There's more, Ron. Tonight, he met someone else."

"Who?"

"I don't actually know, but I think-"

"Find out." Ron interrupted, "It's very important to know."

"Why?" asked Harry, amused.

"It just… Isn't there someone you can ask?"

Harry pondered briefly, catching sight of his friend Jake behind the bar.

"Yes, there is. Jake!"

The barman turned his head at the voice, moving swiftly over to Harry.

"You called, mon Ange." He replied, winking, then turned his attention over to Ron "And who is this _fine_ young specimen you have with you tonight?"

Harry chuckled at Jake's blatant flirting. "This is my best friend Ron. Ron, this is Jake, the head barman here."

"Charmed," said the barman, taking Ron's proffered hand and bending to kiss it lightly. Ron looked like a trapped rabbit, silently pleading to Harry for help. "And where is that gorgeous boyfriend of yours, Harry? I saw him in here earlier but he seems to have run off."

Ron expression changed immediately. "You saw Draco? Who was he with?"

"Yes, I did." Jake replied, looking somewhat confused, "I thought he must be waiting for you to arrive. Then he started dancing with that _creep_, ugh! "

"Creep?" Ron was getting into his stride now, "Why? What's his name?"

"Oh, Richard Holmes. Total creep. You know, I _knew_ Draco was playing with me. Of course I _knew_ you wouldn't have let him out alone with another single gay man for even an hour. Let alone _that_ man." Jake seemed in his element, gossiping with the clientele.

"Why 'let alone _that_ man'?" the red head asked, loudly, at the same time as Harry said

"Actually, it's not really my place to stop him anymore."

Ignoring the red head, the barman turned his full attention onto Harry.

"And _why_, may I ask, is it 'not your place to stop him anymore'?"

"Because" Harry stated, "We stopped seeing each other a few days ago."

"But…So, he wasn't playing then?" Jake looked stunned, and began as if clarifying things for himself, "He really was here without you. With Dick-chard. And I thought Draco had taste." He looked quite disgusted.

"Dick-_What_?" asked Harry, sporting an amused grin.

"You don't know Dick the Prick?" Jake queried.

"Bloody hell, tell us the story already!" Ron nearly shrieked, impatient to hear about his friend's new love rival.

Jake rolled his eyes.

"That's Richard, Draco's "friend's", nickname 'round town."

"What did he do to deserve that?" Harry asked, interested.

"Simply? He earned it because his name's Dick _and_ he's a Prick." Jake spoke as if explaining to a small child.

Harry smirked; a Draco-style gesture that did not go unnoticed by either of the other men.

"So does that mean he's a nasty bastard or just really well endowed?"

Jake laughed loudly at Ron's shocked "Harry!".

"It's definitely derogatory" The barman confirmed, "and, if the rumour mills are trustworthy, he apparently does _not_ enter into the latter category."

Harry chuckled, unable to keep himself from wishing_ that_ specific piece of gossip were true. Ron looked upward and prayed to all the entities he know to keep the conversation from descending any further. He would hate to have to cover his ears and hum a jaunty tune to distract himself – once in recent memory was enough.

"So why, specifically, is he a prat? Should I be worried for Dray?" Harry didn't like to think of Draco in harm's way.

"Well, he has a reputation for being quite charming at first and then, when he thinks they're hooked, he becomes more pushy and sleazy. Then he kicks 'em to the proverbial curb. A sort of woo 'em, screw 'em and lose 'em philosophy." Jake assured.

"And worried?" Ron looked incredulous, "About Malfoy? He might be a camper than a row of tents and girlier than most of the women we know-"

"That's quite enough, thanks Ron." Harry cut in.

"-But my point is – He's not incapable of _kicking someone's ass_. If you know what I mean." He shot a pointed look toward his best friend, complete with another 'swish and flick' gesture.

"Really?" Jake said, "Oooo, is he some kind of martial arts king, like in some mystic discipline or something?"

Ron and Harry shared a look before Ron replied.

"In a manner of speaking."

Jake eyes had taken on a somewhat lustful glaze. "Draco." He breathed, dreamily. "He is _the_ sexiest guy ever."

"Totally agree with you," Harry approved, keeping a predatory smile on his face while adding, "But, seriously? I'd back firmly off if I were you."

Jake gulped audibly, before nodding. "Yes, of course. Sorry about that, momentary slip."

"So, then," reasoned Ron, "now that we've established that the new guy is _not_ someone we should be worried about, there is now nothing to stop you getting off your bum, finding Draco and skipping hand in hand off into the sunset – as much as it pains me to say it."

Harry still looked as if he needed some serious convincing.

"No, Ron. No matter what you or I or Jake thinks of that person, maybe he can make Dray happy – happier than I did. Don't I owe Draco the chance to move on? Besides, what's to say he'll even listen to me? I don't deserve his attention. I don't even deserve to bask in his presence ever again."

Harry dropped his head down onto his hands. Jake shared a sympathetic glance with Ron, who managed a quick eye-roll at the slightly melodramatic phrasing, before both men looked back at the messy black-haired head still resting on the slick bar top.

"My opinion?" Jake asked, suddenly serious, "Okay, firstly, you need to lose the grief and focus, 'cos Harry? Self pity is a party for one, you understand? And it's not all that attractive."

"And, mate," Ron took over, "I think if you owe him anything, it's the chance to make his own decision based on the facts of the situation. I've already said I think you should find him and make him listen while you tell him what you should've a long time ago and let him decide what's best for himself."

"Besides," here Jake's laid back persona returned and he smirked, "he's with _Dick-chard_, ugh! He _needs_ saving from that guy now before he becomes permanently polluted."

"You want me to find him?" Both Ron and Jake nodded.

"And tell him I love him and that I'm sorry."

Again, both men nodded.

"Basically, though a bit more elaboration wouldn't go amiss." Added Ron.

A part of Harry's heart sank at the confirmation that this was the only course of action. Though, at the same time, another part of him rejoiced at having no choice but to find Draco and talk to him. The inner conflict seemed to visibly drain Harry but, at last, he seemed to reach a conclusion.

"Okay, you guys win. I'll find him tonight. Where do you think they went?" he acquiesced.

"Well, Richard usually ends up in a club." Jake thought for a while. "Generally south side haunts, like Club Caïna or DeMarco's are his favourites."

Harry eyed him mock-warily.

"You know, you seem to know a suspicious amount about the comings and goings in this town"

"I am the all-knowing fountain of truth and helpful advice, I will admit. But I like to think I know more about the comings than the goings, eh?" Jake winked lasciviously at Ron.

Harry chuckled at the red head's lightning speed attempt to cover his ears and eyes simultaneously, and said "I don't think I want to know."

"Well, _I_ for one definitely don't!" squeaked Ron from behind his hands.

"You will, baby, one day…"

The red head started humming something that sounded suspiciously like "I'm a little tea-pot." That had Harry in fits of laughter as he dragged his friend out of the bar.

"Bye Jake. Thanks." He called out.

"No problem, babe, best of luck." Jake replied, "And, you," he motioned to Ron, "I'll see _you_ later, Carrot Cake."

The colour visibly drained from Ron's face

"Harry," he whispered fervently, ignoring Harry's loud chuckles, "Can we please leave _before_ he eats me? He's looking at me like a starving man looks at a sandwich!"

"Of course we can." Harry motioned towards the door, "After you, Carrot Cake."

The glare Ron shot at him as he passed could have felled a Rhino.

* * *

Please Review and Thank you for reading. Hope it was fun…. (Press the blue/lilac/purple button) 


	6. The Truth Will Out

Yes, I know I know. I solemnly swear that I will finish writing fic before I start posting it from now on, but this fic is done yes!. Anyway,…..

Big shout out to everyone who reviewed Chapter 5 and Chapter 4 (as I didn't manage to include you all in the last update!). You light up my desktop with your loveliness, squee!

Awkward – Yes, I'm putting more up as we speak. Yes, I am rather mean – I've even been referred to as gasp "Evil"! Glad you liked!

Dark-Fairy-Magick – Glad you think so! Thanks for reading!

Michelle – Just hold on to that ledge a bit longer honey! Thanks!

Chi7890 – Thanks, lovely comments! I'm glad you liked Ronnie, I really enjoyed writing him – he is my interpretation of canon Ron! Of course Draco's gonna listen, DH Forever! Nice of you to still be reading!

Sarkywoman – Cheers, glad you think so!

Curious DreamWeaver – Winks back ! Sméagol loves nice commentses!

Chibikat the Canuck – Hope you're okay and thanks for all your sheer loveliness and time! Hugs!

Lyonessheart – Sorry it took so long! As I've said before, I'm "Evil"!

Un morceau de craie - You say you're mean, but I just think you rock! Well, on with the show…

Disclaimer: Unfortunately Draco and Harry are not my person playthings, sob sob.

Chapter 6 – The Truth Will Out.

The dance floor of the club was crammed with bodies all undulating to the throbbing techno beat currently churning out of the immense black speakers hanging menacingly from the ceiling.

From his balcony view of the crowd, Draco felt they reminded him of an ocean – with people writhing together in such close quarters all you could see was the wave of motion throughout the room, rather than any singular person.

Caïna this place was called. Club Caïna.

He remembered the name from a book he'd read years ago, back at Hogwarts. He'd finished all his homework essays for that week and he had been browsing through the fiction section in the library in the hope of a good read. As his eyes passed over the title "Inferno", he found himself reaching for the book and studying the cover.

Dante's Inferno. A book about a man's journey through hell. Having been to a similar place, Draco was immediately intrigued.

From what he could recall, Caïna was in the pit, in the deepest circle of hell, reserved only for those who betrayed their lovers and kin. Draco briefly wondered what kind of symbolic merit he could derive from that information, but felt it best not to pursue the thought.

"Here you go, babe. JD and coke. Sorry I took so long but the bar was heaving."

Richard had returned bearing drinks, having been at the bar more than forty minutes. If Draco were in a different mood, he would have been suspicious about the delay, but he found he couldn't bring himself to care.

"No problem, thanks for the drink." He raised his glass to the other man and downed it in one gulp.

"Hey, do you want me to get you another one of those?" Richard enquired, and Draco noted a strange note of eagerness in his tone, as if he was trying to get Draco drunk – _fat chance of that_, thought the blonde, _unless this place stocks Firewhisky_.

"Why not? And I'll nip to the little boy's room while you do."

Quickly entering the toilets and making for the nearest cubicle, Draco slumped down on the seat and rested his head in his hands.

Nothing was going to plan. In fact, everything had gone terribly wrong. And Draco didn't know what he could do to put everything right again.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

"Harrrryyyy!" Ron whined, "Please let's go to the bar. I've been paraded into countless clubs and bars tonight, most of them catering to the homosexual client, not to mention _mauled_ by an excessively demonstrative gay bartender, and still you haven't yet let me have a pint. It's beyond unreasonable Harry – it's downright cruel." 

Since entering Club Caïna, Harry's eyes had been scanning the crowd closely, searching for a glimpse of blonde hair.

"Ron. Right now, we're supposed to be rescuing my boyfriend from the clutches of his evil, slimy abductor and then spiriting him back to my castle where I can do unmentionable but exciting things to him. And there may be an apology included in that story somewhere but, none-the-less, until we have accomplished our task then no one is going to be getting distracted by the lure of Newcastle Brown Ale."

Ron gave the frustrated sigh of man in desperate need of refreshment.

"Harry, please. Just a quick one and a nice moment's sit down on that balcony up there. You'll have your bird's eye view and I'll have my nice, cool drink. Look, this is the last place we have to go and it's one of the ones that Jake said Richard was quite a regular at, so I bet there's someone we could ask. Come on, mate, I'll even make it a lager instead of bitter – and I wouldn't do that for just anyone you know."

Harry finally brought his gaze to rest on Ron, finally acquiescing after a beat.

"Okay, let's get a drink, Ron. I just….I really wanted to find him."

"And maybe you will, with a better view and a quenched thirst."

Harry nodded and began to make his way over to the stairs leading up to the second floor bar.

"And Harry?" Ron reached out a comforting hand to the other man's shoulder. "If you don't find him tonight, it's not the end of the world. If you love each other, then it'll happen for you. Maybe not tonight, but it will. Things always work out in the end."

"Thanks. I so want you to be right." Harry smiled gratefully at his oldest friend.

"Mate, when am I ever wrong?"

The two men looked at each other briefly before they, chuckling, made their way to the bar.

"Do you really want me to answer that question?"

As they reached the top step, however, Harry ceased his laughter and his face took on a pained grimace.

"What's wrong?" asked Ron, unaware of the reason behind Harry's sudden tension.

"That's him."

"Who's him?"

"Richard." Harry clarified, "That man in the red silk shirt, over there at the bar, is Richard. As in the one that Draco left with earlier."

Ron peered closely toward the bar area and then turned to Harry with an inexplicable look of glee upon his face.

"So let me get this straight – Richard, the slimy prat that left with Draco that we've been chasing all night, is the same guy that is standing over by the bar wearing a shiny red shirt?"

"Yes." Harry answered, finding it hard to believe that even Ron could need this level of explanation.

"Oh, this is _fantastic_! Please excuse me for a moment."

Crowing with joy, Ron swaggered over to the bar leaving behind a confused and slightly worried Harry, who watched nervously.

"Richard!" Ron called loudly, gaining the attention of both the man in question and various other customers, "Holmesy, great to see you again mate, how've you been?" The red head grabbed the shell-shocked man's hand and began pumping it enthusiastically, not failing to notice the long awaited approach of Draco himself as he looked over Richard's shoulder.

"Weasley? Ah, well, um, good…I mean great. And it's great to see you, pal."

Aware of both Harry's inquisitive gaze on his back and Draco's entrance into hearing range, Ron played his trump card triumphantly.

"And how's the wife nowadays? Family life must be keeping you busy if those two boys are still the balls of energy I remember, eh?"

Richard was too busy sweating profusely to notice both Ron's eyes flicking to look over his shoulder and the fact that two people had held their breath waiting for the answer to leave his lips.

"Yeah, the boys are still hectic. But Hannah's a great mum, she keeps them in line. She looks after us all really."

At this point a crisp, aristocratic drawl cut into the conversation.

"Really? Does she now? And this is how you repay her?" Draco sneered, "People like you make me sick. You're wife deserves better and so do I." The blonde turned is gaze onto Ron. "Thanks Weasley, I think you've made your point. Please excuse me."

Draco brushed past a perplexed Ron and, glancing briefly at Harry, strode quickly down the stairs towards the club exit.

"Go on then, mate. What are you waiting for?" Ron asked his best friend.

"I don't really know if it's my place." Harry looked torn and not a little miserable.

"Oh snap out of it for goodness sakes! It is your place, you're his boyfriend, now stop whining and go do your job. " Ron replied sternly, pushing Harry toward the stairs.

"Okay, all right – I'm just-"

"Scared, nervous? Mate, channel your inner Gryffindor or something because you're acting like a wuss. And I know – pot, cauldron, black. Old news. Now get going!"

* * *

"Draco! Wait a minute." Harry had to jog quickly to catch up with the fast retreating Slytherin in front of him. 

"What, Potter?" the blonde replied, stopping suddenly and turning to face the other man. "You and Weasley got what you wanted. I feel nice and silly now, so you can mosey back to your little flat, knowing that tonight's work is done."

"Draco, I'm sorry, I didn't even know that Ron knew Richard. I just wanted to find you, to apologise-" Harry said, trying desperately to reach the now pacing man.

"Apologise? You thought I needed an apology? Well, that's magnanimous of you. You rip out my heart after callously ignoring my feelings but you're sorry about it. Is that supposed to make it okay? Do you think that makes me hurt any less?"

"No, I just wanted to explain-"

"Now you think I want to know _why_ you hurt me? I think it's pretty self explanatory."

Harry sighed, trying once again.

"Draco, I'm sorry about how it sounded this morning. I didn't mean-"

"Save it, Potter. I'm surprised you found the need to scour the town for me just to inform me that you're an apologetic and well meaning asshole, but, none-the-less, thanks for the thought. Have a good night."

Draco turned to walk away but Harry's seeker reflexes allowed him to catch his wrist as he did so. Though Draco remained facing away from Harry, he felt the blonde's silent sigh and watched his shoulders fall in defeat.

"Ah, Harry. I can see you're not going to make this easy."

"I'm not sure what you mean, Dray."

"No, you're never sure, are you?"

"Dray-"

The blonde met Harry's gaze squarely.

"I'm sure now, Harry. You've broken my heart and that's something I didn't think anyone would ever manage to do – something I wouldn't let anyone do to me. But you changed that. You slowly eased yourself into my life and you made me need you. And you've made it clear that those feelings are not returned. I thinks that's all there is left to say."

Draco slowly pulled his arm from Harry's grip and began walking away. Then he paused for a moment, before turning back round to a surprised Harry.

"You know what? Sod that. I do want an explanation, Harry, because I don't understand. These last few weeks especially I've been trying to hide it, trying to uphold my part of the deal precisely so what happened wouldn't happen. I've done everything you wanted, except that time when you were sick last week, but you can't really hold that against me. I don't get it, Harry. Do you know, before all this, I actually convinced myself that maybe, given time, you might come to like the idea of us together in a real relationship. But, even if you never did, even if it was just the no-strings deal we had going for ever, I could have lived with that. I love you, Harry. Even knowing you didn't feel the same way, I would have been happy just for having you in my life."

The open, pleading and hurt expression on Draco's face was enough to allow Harry to find the words he'd been trying to say for weeks now. He composed himself before replying.

"But it wouldn't have been enough for me Draco. This is what I've been trying to tell you. I'm like you – I didn't think you felt the same way about me as I did about you. I didn't….I'm not…. I love you, Draco." Draco gasped sharply at this, "I've loved you for quite some time now. But the thought that you didn't love me, and that one day you'd probably find someone you did love, was too painful. I couldn't face being there when that day came, Draco – I couldn't cope."

"Harry, you love me?" Draco's voice had taken on an awestruck yet hopeful tone.

"Yes, Draco. I love you."

The next thing Harry knew was that he had his arms full of blonde Slytherin and his mouth was being nicely occupied by Draco's soft lips.

"I missed you so much, Harry, I was so down" Draco managed to get out between kisses. "I thought I was never going to get back up again."

"I missed you, too, honey. I love you." Harry answered looking into his partner's eyes.

Draco drew back and held the gaze, not quite managing to smother his smile.

"I assume, however, that you realise you are so _not_ off the hook for this, Potter."

"What do you mean, Dray?" Harry asked, wearily.

"I've had serious mental anguish these last two days, you know. I demand some suitable compensation from you."

Harry smirked at his boyfriend before replying.

"Compensation, you say? What did you have in mind?"

Draco pretended to ponder this for a moment.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure on the finer details but I think we could muddle through. I'm confident with a lot of time and effort we could complete my _compensation_ requirements."

Draco smirk seemed to mirror Harry's own.

"Well, what are we waiting for then? Your place or mine?

"Our place, Harry. Wait a minute? What about Weasley? Surely you don't intend to leave him defenceless and alone in a gay bar?"

"Oh, don't worry," Harry replied, as he steered Draco towards a waiting taxi, "I'm sure "Carrot Cake" is having the time of his life."

Draco shot Harry a bemused look.

"I'm not even going to ask."

* * *

A/N: It's done, it's over. I came, I saw, I….well I came and saw, all right? Isn't that enough for you people! Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. Please review! Muah xx 


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